


Bloodflow

by ImperialMint



Category: Tsubasa: Reservoir Chronicle
Genre: Blood, Blood Kink, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-21
Updated: 2015-08-21
Packaged: 2018-04-16 11:14:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4623240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImperialMint/pseuds/ImperialMint
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Even without any traces of a vampire’s power inside of him, Fai still can’t help the thrum of his pulse when he smells Kurogane’s blood. A story about recovering and moving on. Set between TRC and TWC.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bloodflow

**Author's Note:**

> This is something I've always wanted to write since I first read TRC. Of course me being me I completely missed the release of TWC and now I have a lot of catching up to do with story ideas and that. 
> 
> This follows that once Fai got his magic back, he didn't have any vampire powers anymore, but that there is still a bond between them, even if it's a more abstract one (because let's face it, Fai still has an extended lifespan and there is no way Kurogane can die ages before him so I say the bond stays in terms of Kurogane extending his lifespan!)
> 
> Thank you to the wonderful [lunarshores](lunarshores.tumblr.com) for betaing!

**.  
[part one]  
.**

It’s the first world they’ve been to since so many things. None of them say it, but not having Sakura with them still stings, and even though they all know she is safe and alive, tension simmers between them. There is so much they haven’t spoken about either, things they can’t speak about and not because they don’t want to, but how do you talk about worlds colliding, your path being decided for you, time looping in endless streams and losing and gaining so much. It’s not something that can be talked about.

The world they’ve arrived in is startlingly plain. There doesn’t seem to be much civilisation around, apart from a small town nearby, and the people seem fairly rustic. Fai thinks fondly for a moment of showers and indoor plumbing, but he supposes there is good with every unfortunate in any world, and if they have to shit in a hole in the ground and smell like animals for a while, well, they’ve suffered worse.

And then he remembers that he has his magic again, and while he’d never been able to pick up any healing arts, he’d been able to pick up everything else. Cleaning spells included. Still, Fai thinks, feeling the prickle of his magic, both eyes surveying the landscape, he isn’t sure he’s ready to use his magic properly yet. There are too many memories there, too many regrets and wishes that he’ll never share. Fai knows the danger of wishes, after all.

Syaoran moves first, scanning their surroundings as Mokona settles on his shoulder. Mokona has been very quiet since Clow country, sticking close to one of them at all times, and Fai understands. He’s felt the same, wanting to keep them all in a room together, but he knows that will not happen. Syaoran has his mind set on their task, and Fai wouldn’t want to be anywhere else but on this journey.

“We should see if there’s somewhere for us to stay,” Syaoran says, and Mokona presses against his cheek, turning to stare at Fai. “I think the sun’s setting.”

It does indeed look as if the sun is setting, Fai thinks, and he half-turns to Kurogane. He realises, belatedly, that he’s over compensated and turned much further around than he needs to. He’d never thought he’d get used to only having one eye, but it seems the body remembers (and how many times has he heard that, Fai should have known).

“Right,” Kurogane grunts, and that’s that then. Fai beams and takes a step forward, holding his hands out for Mokona. She jumps over eagerly, and Fai is sure she notices the importance of the shoulder he places her on. Mokona worries more than all of them, Fai thinks, and he wants to remind her that they are okay, they are recovering, and they have survived. He has his eye back, his magic back, his life back – Fai has everything.

They walk slowly, enjoying the warm air. The air is fragrant, full of flower and grass smells, things that Fai never associated as being good things. Celes was a land of snow and ice, where the cool scent of snow greeted him when he walked outside. Since travelling, Fai has come to enjoy the smell of flowers in their natural habitat, and he thinks that he’ll enjoy this world, even without indoor plumbing.

Mokona is busy commenting on the animals in the fields around them, and Fai tunes in, though he has no real interest in the beasts. He strokes Mokona with one hand, looking around and replying to her comments as she points around.

“It’s like a sheep!” she declares excitedly, and before Fai knows it, she’s bounced off. It’s a good sign, and Fai catches Syaoran’s smile as he watches Mokona, making herself at home in the fluffy fur of a nearby animal.

“What’s the furball doing now?” comes a low voice, and Fai looks slightly to his side. Kurogane is there, as always, slightly slouched over. Fai can feel the heat radiating from him and knows his pulse will be a steady thrum through his body.

There are many things they won’t articulate to each other, and this is one of them. Fai is no longer a vampire and so there is no bond between Kurogane and himself anymore. He’d known that much the moment his magic had re-entered his body, purging the vampire blood from him and humming through in its place. He had felt alive, electrified, and Fai is still not used to feeling his power running through him. It’s different to how it was before, stronger yet twisted, and he sometimes thinks he can feel something completely foreign, something left over from the clone-Syaoran’s time controlling his magic.

(Fai also doesn’t mention how he can tell when Syaoran’s about to use magic, how his skin prickles with warning, and he feels dread pierce through the pit of his stomach, memories of how his magic had fizzled and crackled under the clone-Syaoran’s hand for the first time as he lay slowly dying, his head full of pain and blood that just wouldn’t stop. He doesn’t mention this because it’s not like any of them had a choice, and when they did, they chose the right things. He doesn’t mention it because it would hurt Syaoran, and Fai doesn’t blame him anyway, or the clone-Syaoran for that matter. It happened, they’d all suffered and paid the price. Still, the body remembers; oh, how it remembers.)

So there is no bond between them. There is no unbreakable connection. If Kurogane dies, Fai will not. If Fai dies, Kurogane will not. That’s how it works now, they’re not chained or bound or any other word. They are separate.

Except not really, Fai thinks. He’ll never be able to separate himself from Kurogane, and he knows that Kurogane will never be able to untangle himself from Fai. They are separate, but they are an ‘us’, a ‘we’, a plural always. They are tied in so many ways, just as entrenched in time and space as Syaoran and Sakura are. They were just as much pawns under Fei Wang’s hand, and just as Syaoran and Sakura can never part, Fai knows that Kurogane and he are destined for the same.

It’s also a lot simpler than that. Leaving Syaoran and Mokona isn’t an option either anymore. Leaving Kurogane doesn’t even register in Fai’s mind.

He wishes they’d crossed paths with Kamui in this world. It’s still technically an option, but Fai doesn’t think they’ll meet the twins here. Or no, rather he can sense it. Fai has so many questions. He’s not a vampire anymore and yet… and yet…

“Oi,” Kurogane calls, and Fai smiles, eyes tracking from Mokona to watch Kurogane as he stalks forward. His cloak ripples in the wind, hiding his arm and his sacrifice from Fai, but he knows it’s there. It irritates him less now, though Fai can still remember the tangy metal scent in his nose, the metal arm digging into Kurogane’s skin and blood seeping from jagged wounds. Fai swallows at the memory, inhaling sharply as if he can recover the smell here, but there is nothing. All he can smell are the flowers and grass, and for a moment he hates it.

Mokona jumps onto Kurogane, and for once Kurogane doesn’t even pretend he’s annoyed. He smiles, cups Mokona for a moment and then strides onwards, giving them no choice but to follow or be left behind. And, Fai thinks as he calls joyfully after Kurogane, inventing yet another marvellous nickname, if Kurogane is the first to speak to whoever they meet, they’ll surely be trying to find an abandoned shepherd’s hut to sleep in tonight.

Just like the world, the people are plain. They are farmers, mostly, and Fai can sense weariness and satisfaction clinging to them. They are honest people, good people, and he thinks that perhaps they were taken to this world to recover. Perhaps, this once, there will be nothing to do here but relax for a short while, begin to overcome their losses and then finally move on.

Of course, Fai has no way of knowing this. Perhaps they’ll discover some calamity in the morning or some terrible plot, but his magic is humming contentedly through him, and even Kurogane seems relaxed. If something is going to happen, it’s not going to take place tonight.

They are directed to an inn, where they bargain for a room with goods they were given in Clow. The inn keeper looks astounded by some of the jewellery Mokona had been storing, and Syaoran tells them later that the jewellery was practically worthless back home and that he’d been hoping it would give them a pretty price elsewhere. It’s worth enough that they are given two rooms (apparently one would be too small, and the innkeeper cannot simply have them crammed in, she assures them) and the promise of three meals a day for as long as they stay. It’s a good deal, and they take it, wandering to their rooms upstairs.

It’s been awhile since they’ve had to choose who goes where in terms of sleeping arrangements, and Fai’s about to suggest something when Syaoran talks.

“I would like…” he says, looking down. His gaze shifts to Mokona, and Fai thinks he knows what is about to be asked. “Could I have a room with Mokona?” he says, and Fai nods instantly. No doubt he’ll be using Mokona to speak to either Sakura or Watanuki, and Fai is more than happy to give him his privacy.

It does mean, however, that he’ll be sharing with Kurogane. Fai bites back his smile, looking at Syaoran rather than turning to Kurogane. He’s not ready to show how much this means, not just yet.

“Of course,” Fai says instead, all cheer. He thinks he feels Kurogane straighten slightly, a tell that he’s noticed Fai isn’t quite as sincere as he seems. Syaoran can probably tell too, but he doesn’t do anything, simply nods, takes Mokona and heads to the room on his side of the corridor.

“Well then, Kuro-tan,” Fai says, and ignores the stare Kurogane fixes him with. He smiles, wondering how long it will take for Kurogane to say something (not long, probably as soon as they’re in the room), and what he can do to prolong it (nothing). “You better not snore too loudly, or you’ll wake up the entire inn.”

Kurogane moves past him, mumbling something under his breath, and Fai catches the metallic tang of metal and blood in the air. He stills, nostrils flaring, and bites the inside of his cheek as Kurogane looks back, eyes narrowed and pensive. He knows, Fai thinks, though perhaps he doesn’t entirely understand.

“Let’s look at your arm,” Fai says softly. Kurogane grunts, opens the door and strides in as if he owns the place. He’s all confidence and quiet assessment no matter where they are, and Fai wonders how their group would have fared if Kurogane hadn’t been with them. His stomach twists worryingly, and Fai knows he doesn’t want an answer to that thought. Thoughts can be dangerous too, the slight slip of tongue and things start to unravel around you. Fai doesn’t want to unravel himself from Kurogane.

His arm, quite frankly, is a mess. His shoulder never took well to the joint and there are fresh wounds where metal meets skin. Fai doesn’t know (can’t learn) any healing spells to help Kurogane, but he does have some salve and other medical items. He remembers Sakura’s pinched look as she’d piled him with medicines, eyes sad and lips pressed tightly together.

“You’ve helped us more than you know,” Fai had said, and Sakura had looked at him with wide eyes, the pinched look dropping from her face. “We all have things we can’t do,” he had added, and she’d smiled, nodding. She understood him and he her, they always had. She would always be a part of their team, even when she remained in Clow.

“Sit,” Fai says, glad they’re postponing whatever Kurogane wants to say. It won’t be a lot of time, but he’ll take what he can get. “You really shouldn’t strain yourself, what will happen when it comes to fighting?”

As expected, Kurogane fixes him with a glare. Fai undoes one of the salves, gestures to Kurogane’s shoulder and helps take his clothes off. He’s soon sitting bare-chested before Fai, dried blood caked into the workings of the metal arm where it meets skin. It looks sore rather than painful, and Fai is sure it won’t be long until Kurogane is fully adjusted to the arm, even if it will never completely take. Until then, though, he’ll be here with the salve.

“What do you expect,” Kurogane says simply, though there is fire in his words. Fai expects nothing, of course. This is a man who refuses to die, refuses to play by the rules and refuses to listen to anyone who tells him he can’t do it. He’s a man who has crossed dimensions and lived, a man who has faced down terrifying enemies and come out of battle stronger. This is a man who cradled Fai when he was dying, took his hand and wouldn’t let go, and a man who cut off his own arm to ensure they got through together.

“I expect you to tell me when it hurts,” Fai says instead, quirking his lips into a smile. “And for you to let me do this.” He takes the salve, but pauses. He grits his teeth, nostrils flaring at the scent of blood, and he know he won’t be able to put off the question this time.

“What is it?” Kurogane asks. They know everything of each other now, so there is no room for Fai to wiggle out of this one. Kurogane is expecting an answer, and he’s going to get it. Besides, Fai doesn’t particularly want to keep this a secret, it’s just not something he’d offer freely without prompting.

“It’s just,” he begins, frowning as he fights to find the right words. He draws back, glancing from the blood against Kurogane’s skin and to his eyes. He almost lets out a sound of surprise at the softness there. Gone is the hard warrior and instead here is a man who has paid a price, a man who fought for all of them and will fight for the ones he loves.

Fai touches Kurogane’s chest gently, in the space above his heart. He can feel the steady beat of his heart, a melody he became so intimately acquainted with. He misses it, Fai thinks, and many times he’s pulled himself out of sleep and heard the gently lub-dub fading as his dreams slip away.

“Does it sicken you?” Kurogane asks, and Fai realises they’ve been on entirely different wavelengths all this time. Kurogane’s thinking this has to do with his arm, or lack thereof, but it’s nothing to do with flesh and bone, and all to do with the blood that flows.

“Not at all,” Fai says, pressing his palm flat against Kurogane’s chest, fingers curling over the spattering of hairs there. He closes his eyes and feels the heat radiating under his hand, full of life and vitality, his arm moving slightly as Kurogane breathes slowly. He doesn’t speak, and Fai doesn’t dare look, trapped in this intimate space.

“It’s not your arm,” he says softly, opening his eyes a fraction. Kurogane is looking straight at him, the softness hardened ever so slightly, determination clear in his gaze. He’s found something he wants to know the answer to.

“It’s your blood,” Fai finishes, and he lets his hand slip away from Kurogane’s skin, already missing the slow, steady beat between them. He moves to put his hand by his side, to find the salve and fix up Kurogane’s shoulder, but a strong grip catches him.

“What do you mean it’s my blood?” he demands, voice stern. There is worry there too, but if Fai didn’t know Kurogane as well as he did now, he’d easily mistake it for anger.

“I am not the same,” Fai says, and he looks down as Kurogane laces their fingers together. It’s such a gentle gesture that it puts him out of sorts, and Fai stares at their hands. His skin is so pale compared to Kurogane’s, the skin smooth and scarless. While he uses his hands for magic, Fai has almost always worn gloves. His hands are not warrior hands, unlike Kurogane’s. Fai can feel small knots of scar tissue, wonders what story each has to tell, and looks back up into Kurogane’s eyes.

“After Kamui gave me his blood and made you my prey, I depended on you. You were everything to me,” Fai says, and he doesn’t want to expand too much upon that. He remembers that he was not himself, trapped with the fear of returning to Celes. He had been able to feel his magic growing stronger and stronger, oh yes, and it had terrified him. Ashura-ō would have been able to sense it, and he’d been terrified the seal would break and he’d be found.

(Of course the seal had broken, but that had been a different story in the end.)

Still, Kurogane was (and still is) everything to Fai. There is nothing that can change that, no person who can change that.

“After I got my magic back, I was no longer a vampire,” Fai says, and Kurogane nods impatiently. He knows all this, of course he does, and probably thinks Fai is just trying to stall for time. “Some things stayed behind, however.”

Fai doesn’t say anything else, but it seems Kurogane isn’t as sharp in this moment. He blinks slowly, a line appearing above one of his eyebrows as he fights not to frown. Fai can read him like a book as their relationship goes both ways. He squeezes Kurogane’s hand once, though the metal will not feel it, deciding that he has to say the words out loud.

“I still… crave your blood,” he admits, the words small in the space between them. “I don’t need it, but I miss it.”

Kurogane doesn’t say anything, but Fai doesn’t blame him. There isn’t much to say to that, after all. It’s just another layer to their unconventional relationship, nothing more, nothing less.

“You miss my blood,” Kurogane says eventually, though he hasn’t pulled away or told Fai to leave. It’s a small mercy, Fai supposes, so he nods his head and looks down.

He wonders, for a brief moment, who would win in a fight between them. He can’t imagine the scenario ever coming to light anymore, and there was a time when Fai was convinced he’d have to fight and kill Kurogane, but he does wonder. Even with all his magical power, Fai isn’t sure he’d be able to defeat Kurogane. He is a warrior through and through, and Fai isn’t sure he could ever be half of that.

Still, he is what he is, and he’s proud of who he is now.

“You’re not disgusted by me,” Kurogane states, and Fai looks at him with wide eyes. Horror clenches in his gut at the thought, of course he’s not disgusted, he could never be. Kurogane has done so much for them and Fai cannot imagine himself ever turning Kurogane away.

“No,” he says in a rush, bringing his free hand up to curl around Kurogane’s intact shoulder. “Never,” he says, conviction running through him like the blaze of fire.

The answer seems to satisfy Kurogane, and he leans in slightly. His grip has softened around Fai’s hand, and Fai wishes he could feel the thrum of blood through metal. He can’t, though, and he feels a heavy sense of loss. That is something of Kurogane’s they will never get back, and Fai feels as though he is destined to lose a large part of Kurogane after what he’s admitted. It would be fair, he thinks, for Kurogane has sacrificed so much for him.

“And you want my blood,” Kurogane says softly, his voice barely more than a whisper. It’s a sound Fai has heard sparingly, once in the darkness of Shura when he couldn’t understand the words, then again when he was on the verge of death, then again when the dust was settling. Fai thinks perhaps Kurogane said the same words each time, but he cannot be sure. He’s definitely saying something else now, though, and Fai’s attention is for Kurogane alone this time.

“Yes,” Fai confirms, and he starts at the smile that spreads across Kurogane’s face. It’s an easy smile, a simple one, and yet it holds so much meaning.

“Then what are you waiting for?” he says, and the words seem so kind in this tone of voice. It’s so unlike his usual teasing, a question that contains emotion and a choice. If Fai chooses wrongly here, he’ll lose part of Kurogane. And that is quite simply not an option.

Fai moves forward, pressing a kiss against the edge of Kurogane’s collarbone. Even in the height of feeding, Fai has never kissed Kurogane before, and the touch is brief and gentle. He can feel the muscle cord under his lips, and he looks up, Kurogane’s gaze calculating. Fai’s seen this look many times before, but it’s always been from the side lines. He’s not sure what it means in this context, if he’s honest.

There’s a lot he’s come to realise he doesn’t know when Kurogane’s concerned, and there’s always only so much bluffing he can do when Kurogane sees right through every move. Fai leans back in, though he’s not set on a goal. It’s just as well, for Kurogane’s hand (his real, warm, feeling one) stops him, fingers just brushing against his jaw. There is the barest of touch against Fai’s skin, and then Kurogane seems to make up his mind. And, as in every other situation where he makes up his mind, when Kurogane commits, he commits, and Fai is lost as he surges forward, taking Fai by the chin and leading him up. He leaves a bruising kiss against Fai’s lips, surely ruining him for anyone else.

“It is all yours,” Kurogane says, unexpectedly tender. Fai doesn’t think he’ll hear words like this again for a very long time, and he savours them, lets them sit in his head for a while, drinking them in syllable by syllable. They are almost as delectable as the blood thrumming through Kurogane’s veins.

“I am all yours,” Fai murmurs in response, pressing a kiss to Kurogane’s cheek. “Forever more,” he adds, delighting as Kurogane pulls him down, half on top of him and half on top of the bed. There is desire in his eyes, but also recognition and acceptance. They have found each other, despite everything, and they’ve stayed together

Fai doesn’t need to explain that they’ll always have some kind of bond. He may not be a vampire anymore, but that doesn’t change the fact Kurogane bonded himself to Fai. Magic may have chased the vampire blood free of Fai’s body, but it tied itself in its place to Kurogane. Fai doesn’t think the other will die when one does, but Kurogane’s lifespan will likely match Fai’s now.

There isn’t any more time to think though, for Fai is pulled closer, Kurogane kissing him softly, coaxing teeth to draw his lip, for Fai to split the skin and let blood well between them. It’s not much, certainly not in comparison to what Fai has drunk from him in the past, but it tastes sweeter than anything Fai has tasted before.

He pulls back, licks his lips, looks at the heat in Kurogane’s eyes and swallows. Blood coats Kurogane’s teeth and the corners of his mouth and Fai moves back down quickly, tongue sweeping over sore skin. He cleans the cut, careful not to agitate it, before he kisses Kurogane again, drawing fresh blood to the surface. He can almost taste the desire in it, Fai thinks, and he closes his eyes, pressing his lips against Kurogane’s chin and leaving a bloodied mark there. 

“Look at me,” Kurogane commands, a hand in Fai’s hair. It is warm and strong, Kurogane’s real hand, but it doesn’t force Fai into compliance. It almost cradles him, and Fai looks him in the eye, smiling slowly as Kurogane shows off his slightly bloodied grin.

“I am yours too,” he says, and Fai dips back down, heart soaring in his chest. The night stretches before them, and Fai knows sleep is far off for both of them right now. He feels heat pool in his belly, desire sparking through his veins, and licks his lips, delighting in the way Kurogane’s eyes track the movement.

He shouldn’t be surprised, Fai thinks, after all they’ve gone through and how much they’ve pledged to each other. He shouldn’t be surprised when Kurogane rolls them over, not caring that they’re going to stain the sheets with blood and only caring that Fai gets his fill. He shouldn’t be surprised when Kurogane asks for what he wants between heated kisses and sweaty skin sliding against sweaty skin.

He is surprised, though, but Fai thinks that if surprises are all like these he’ll be the happiest man alive.

**.  
[part two]  
.**

The dawn is breaking when they wake next. Fai isn’t sure what wakes him first, but then he realises that Kurogane isn’t beside him anymore and is, instead, sitting with Ginryū across his lap. The sword is sheathed, and Kurogane doesn’t seem to have noticed Fai is awake. He gently presses a hand to Kurogane’s back, and Kurogane looks over at him, smiling ever so slightly.

“Not sleepy Kuro-rin?” Fai says, voice still low and thick with sleep. Kurogane shakes his head slightly, eyes following Fai as he slips out of bed and takes the jug of water from the dresser. He’s thirsty, pours himself a drink and then turns to watch Kurogane looking down at Ginryū. He drinks, set his glass back down, and waits.

Ginryū doesn’t wavers in Kurogane’s grip. It never has, never will, and Fai thinks it is a beautiful blade. He remembers the other one, Sōhi, and feels a pang of sadness. It was as much Kurogane’s blade as Ginryū is, but it’s lost to the destroyed world of Celes now. Fai wonders what happened to it – did it crumble, was it simply vanished, did it return to where it came from? He’ll never know, and Kurogane does not need Sōhi. Next to Ginryū it is an inferior blade.

“Would you,” Kurogane starts, then he stops. Fai looks at him curiously, unsure what Kurogane could want. He’d assumed Ginryū was going to be polished and tended to, but the blade dips down slightly, Kurogane making no move for his cleaning supplies.

“Yes?” Fai asks, when the silence drags on for too long. He raises an eyebrow when Kurogane looks at him, Ginryū rising slightly.

“Would you bless this sword?” Kurogane asks, and his request is both simple and silent.

For a moment, Fai doesn’t know what to say. He looks at the gleaming blade, wondering how many people have seen it like this and not feared for their lives. Kurogane’s ancestors surely, and Princess Tomoyo, but who else? It is almost sacred, and Fai feels uncertainty creep into his stomach at the request. He knows what Kurogane wants, how much this means, and swallows thickly.

Fai stands and steps before the sword. He closes his eyes, feeling the residue of layers and layers of magic. It’s weak, aged and seeped into the metal as if the sword had been forged with the protection, and whatever safety it gives Kurogane is fading. If Fai leaves his magic here, it will join hundreds of other spells, though that isn’t quite all.

“Who was the last person to bless this sword?” Fai asks, though he can feel the spell shift as he moves a hand above the blade. The spell is imbued with love and fear, hope and soundless prayers. Whoever left the blessing, and Fai thinks he knows, loved the one wielding it almost more than they could bear.

“My mother blessed Ginryū for my father,” Kurogane says, voice gruff. He’s not looking at Fai and instead staring down at the dragon that forms the sword’s hilt.

Fai isn’t sure whether he wants to be standing there all of a sudden. It’s almost too much for him, and he bites the inside of his cheek, letting out a sharp sigh.

“I know what I’m asking of you,” Kurogane says, and Fai smiles. He feels lighter, somehow, and the uncertainty fades from his stomach. Of course Kurogane knows what it is he’s asking, Fai thinks.

“I cannot bless the sword the same way your ancestors did,” Fai warns, but it’s a moot point really. They both know that this sword won’t just be protecting Suwa anymore. “My protection will be a bit stronger too,” Fai adds, and Kurogane nods sharply. He’s somewhat familiar with Fai’s magic now, though he still does not have a full idea of what Fai can do. He’ll try to show Kurogane now though, for this is perhaps one of the most important tasks he’s undertaken.

Kurogane holds Ginryū out before him, blade in both hands. He doesn’t have any traditional blessing items, but his hands are more than enough. As Fai said, he’s not blessing this in the usual way, but in the same way the two of them have got through everything, a little differently.

Moving his hands over the metal of the sword, careful not to touch, Fai feels the intricate knot work of all the previous blessings. He begins weaving a pattern in his mind, one of how his spell will lock with the others and boost them, draw on the ancient power there and the love the blessings held for the sword wielder. Fai is just another in a long line, he thinks, and feels comforted in that fact. Ginryū had always been in the hands of someone who is loved very much, and Kurogane is no exception.

Fai pulls his hands back and claps them together, drawing on what he remembers of the blessing practices of Kurogane’s world. His magic tingles against his fingertips, and Fai can feel Ginryū stir in response, as if Kurogane holds a living dragon in his hands. It can feel the blessing, Fai knows, and it is preparing to see whether the blessing is a worthy one.

While he’s always practiced magic wordlessly, not needing to pronounce his intent unlike the majority of magic users, Fai sounds the words out now, hoping they will strengthen the blessing. He knows Mokona’s translation will not work on the words of magic, and he recognises languages of two lost worlds intermingling with each other, spells of protection weaving against each other like two soaring dragons dancing around each other. Fai continues to speak, closing his eyes as he begins to sew his magic into the other spells, words tapering off as he controls the magic now, a purple spiral lying like an intricate tattoo over Ginryū’s metal.

There is a low hum and, for a terrible moment, Fai thinks that Ginryū will reject his blessing. Then, ever so slowly, the purple knot work fades into the blade, the blessing taking hold. Fai feels it instantly in a blaze of magic. He can feel the work of hundreds of priests and priestesses curled into his spell. Ginryū settles back into its slumber, as if it is a creature that has eaten a full meal and has a warm place to sleep. Fai thinks he’s done well and claps his hands together once more, closing his eyes.

“Protect your master,” he says, the words still entrenched in magic. He thinks they are spoken in Valerian, a language only Fai knows now, and the spell cements into place, Ginryū accepting Fai’s words and magic, promising its full strength in return.

Fai opens his eyes and meets Kurogane’s gaze. There is something different there, something that Kurogane can’t seem to shake, and he hastens to sheathe Ginryū, hands still steady. He knows his sword well, Fai can tell, and he places it carefully against the wall. Magic still hums off of it, Fai’s magic, but it is quieter, satisfied, and Fai wonders if Kurogane can sense the change.

“Thank you,” he says gently, and these are words not often spoken. Kurogane returns to the bed, sits down and looks up, eyes focused on something that is not in this room.

“The protection will hold for as long as we live,” Fai says, taking his place at Kurogane’s side. He sits by his real-skin-and-bone shoulder, takes Kurogane’s warm hand in his own and leans his head against strong muscle. “Even longer than us,” he adds, and he feels Kurogane look down, a hum sounding low in his chest.

Kurogane shifts, and Fai is pulled against his chest, Kurogane’s arm wrapped tightly around him. His nose is buried against Fai’s scalp, and Fai wraps his arms around Kurogane’s waist, holding him tightly. They don’t move for a long while, and, when they do, it is only to fall back onto the bed, still pressed tightly against one another.

“We move forward together from now on,” Kurogane says. Fai curls over him slightly, pushing up to look down into his eyes as he half-lays across Kurogane’s chest. He looks between Kurogane’s eyes for a moment and nods, his hair falling around them as he kisses Kurogane softly in promise.

He cannot promise to never lie or cause harm – who knows what the future holds, who knows what worlds they will face and what dangers, and Fai has destroyed two worlds already as well as countless people. His sins are terrible, and he wouldn’t be surprised if he had to pay for them still – but he’ll walk with Kurogane always. He trusts Kurogane, might even love him the way he’s never loved anyone before, and he will do all he can to protect Kurogane just as Ginryū will. After all, Kurogane will be protecting the rest of them, and Fai can’t let him have all the fun.

Fai feels Kurogane run his hands through his hair, and he smiles, letting himself slide back down, eyes drifting closed as Kurogane continues to play with his hair. He is surprisingly delicate, and Fai knows it won’t be long before they both drift back into sleep.

He thinks that he’ll trim his hair soon. Perhaps he’ll ask Kurogane to do it. There was only one other person who did it before, and Fai thinks he needs this, to shed the weight of his past once again under the hands of someone he’ll come to love.

“Goodnight Kuro-sama,” Fai whispers into the half-lit room, the sun beginning to shine outside. They’ve learnt to sleep through anything as of late, and Syaoran looked as if he could use a good sleep, so there is no need to wake just yet.

The only reply Fai gets is a soft grunt, Kurogane already half asleep, fingers tangled in Fai’s hair and curled against his waist. He could get used to this, Fai thinks, smile fading from his lips as he too drifts back to sleep.

**.  
[the end]  
.**


End file.
